


The Role Is Cursed

by TheLiveshipParagon



Category: Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hellblazer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, British Slang, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Dolores Umbridge is Her Own Warning, Drabble, Hogwarts, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Sassy Harry Potter, School, Teaching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-01-01 04:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiveshipParagon/pseuds/TheLiveshipParagon
Summary: Imagine John Constantine as a Hogwarts professor*Please do not replicate my work without my express permission*





	1. Professor Constantine

**Author's Note:**

> Possible proof reading errors!  
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx

Harry sat in the Great Hall, staring up at the row of teachers and trying to count them, feeling like someone was missing.

“It’s the new Dark Arts teacher,” Hermione helpfully informed him, having watched the progress of his gaze. “I think Dumbledore had a lot of trouble trying to fill the position this year after what happened with Mad Eye.”

“Pretty sure no one wants to risk being kidnapped by a mental Death Eater no matter how good the pay is,” Ron said around a mouthful of mashed potato.

“Maybe they just won’t have Defense Against the Dark Arts this year,” Harry sighed, feeling morose. “Not like we don’t need it more than ever now or something.”

“Harry,” Hermione gave him an exasperated look. “Dumbledore knows what he is doing. He’s gone against You-Know-Who before. Trust him!”

“Trust a man who left me with the Dursleys and a bunch of dementors, yeah,” Harry said bitterly. “Why couldn’t they let Tonks or something do it? A member of the Order?”

“Too risky,” Hermione chided him as though this were painfully obvious. “I mean, that would also mean that Snape could be up for the job on that criteria.”

“Yeah no thanks,” Ron scoffed. “Can you imagine? He’d jinx us all and say it was part of our ‘training”. He hates us.“

"Wellllllll,” Hermione gave him a vicious glance. “You’re not exactly excelling in potions, are you?”

Harry thought Ron was going to throw his potatoes at Hermione until a tinkle from the top table sounded out. Professor McGonagall had rapped smartly on her crystal goblet to restore silence as Dumbledore stood up, approaching the lectern.

“Welcome, welcome,” he beamed at everyone. “A very warm welcome. Firstly I need to announce that there are changes to the staff this year. Professor Grubblyplank will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures-”

“What?!” Harry blurted out at the same time as Ron.

Dumbledore carried on as though he had not heard, “-Also Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry of Magic will be assessing the school’s performance this year. Please do not be distracted if she attends your class. She is merely invigilating.”

The toad like grin on Umbridge’s face spread across her jowly cheeks as she sweetly smiled at everyone but Harry knew she was likely here to spy for Cornelius Fudge. His hatred of her only grew after his last encounter with her at his hearing.

“Delighted,” she interrupted Dumbledore with that sickly falsetto voice. “I look forward to seeing how you students learn and are prepared for adult wizarding life.”

“Awful woman,” Harry muttered and Ron snorted a little, earning a reproachful scowl from Hermione.

“Lastly-” Dumbledore started but a soft 'ahem’ cut through.

“I’ve not quite finished yet,” Umbridge batted her eyelashes and Dumbledore graciously gestured for her to continue. “I have a number of educational decrees I would like to enforce so if any student has suggestions, they will be greatly rewarded.”

“She wants free spies in Hogwarts,” Harry balled his fists, fuming. “How dare she!”

“How horrible!” Hermione agreed.

“I think we know who will take her up on the offer,” Ron huffed, staring at Draco Malfoy who was excitedly whispering to Crabbe and Goyle.

“Yes, thank you Dolores,” Dumbledore regained the floor. “Lastly, I wish to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

All the students looked around, trying to figure out if the new teacher was merely sitting somewhere else or wanted to make a dramatic entrance like Gilderoy Lockhart did two years ago.

Then Harry saw it. A slight movement of a coat on one of the chairs. Seemed whoever it was had been sleeping across a few behind the staff table and was obscured from view.

Professor Sprout helpfully nudged whoever it was and Harry saw a young blond man with unruly spiked hair bolt upright, his eyes wide as he adjusted to his rude awakening, straightening his tie in a hurry.

“Please welcome Professor Constantine,” Dumbledore clapped as the professor awkwardly stood up, giving a wave. “Professor Constantine has great experience of the Dark Arts and is a well renowned Demonologist and expert in wandless defensive magic. I am sure he will teach you a great many unusual things this year.”

Harry and Ron automatically turned to Hermione as she usually would be parroting off information about the shabby looking man who was now tucking a cigarette behind his ear.

“Well don’t look at me,” she seemed bewildered. “I haven’t got a clue. Demons are well above N.E.W.T level and I have never found many reference books.”

“Fat lot of use you are then,” Ron shrugged. “He looks alright. Kind of like Lupin.”

“Hopefully,” Harry stared at the man. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

 

**

 

The general mood of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was bordering on apprehensive.

Nobody had forgotten the, frankly brutal, lessons of the fake Moody and everyone was wondering what kind of man would take a famously cursed job after everything that had happened at the Triwizard Tournament.

“Alright, pipe down sprogs,” Professor Constantine said as he ambled into the classroom, tan trenchcoat swishing behind him. “You know how this kind of class goes these days.”

He began sparking up a cigarette and Hermione’s hand shot into the air. The professor looked at her as though she were mental.

“Aye, Miss……?” He said after watching her practically bob in the seat.

“Hermione Granger,” she said breathlessly. “Professor, I don’t think you are allowed to smoke in here.”

“Really? Well….bollocks,” he sighed before extinguishing the cigarette into a nearby plant pot. “Nasty muggle habit anyway, right?”

“Oh I don’t mean to tell you off,” Hermione turned bright red. “I just-”

“It’s alright, lass. I’m not good with rules. You may have to remind me. Been a while since I were in a magical community.”

“Sir? What did you do before teaching?” Seamus couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“Basically helped muggles who’d fallen foul of monsters, ghosts and demons,” Professor Constantine tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “You wouldn’t believe the palava it causes. Averted a few biblical apocalypses in me time.”

Harry felt the collective spike of interest from the class as they leaned forward in their chairs and he heard Lavender Brown start whispering to Parvati Patil that they found the Professor very attractive, giggling amongst themselves.

“Simmer down,” the Professor continued. “Now, ground rules. I bloody hate being called Sir or Professor. Call me John. Might seem right strange but I hate putting on airs and graces. Second, there are  _no_  stupid questions. Nobody became a great wizard overnight and they’re sodding lying if they tell you otherwise. We all make mistakes when learning.”

Even Neville Longbottom relaxed and Harry knew he had been dreading this class especially due to last year. Knowing he wouldn’t be laughed at or ridiculed must have been an enormous sense of relief.

“Sir? Sorry, John?” Harry corrected himself. “Are we going to learn to defend ourselves against Lord Voldemort?”

The entire class fell silent and Harry felt dozens of eyes boring into the back of his head. Surely they wanted to know too right?

“You betcha,” John points. “Umbridge may have told me to stick to the source material but frankly, fucking bollocks to that.”

A small gasp sounded out at the swearing but then a little titter rang out.

“Oh and forgive the verbals,” John smirked a little. “Not taught kids before….obviously. So yeah Mr….”

“Harry Potter,” Harry replied.

He waited for the inevitable staring and the dawning realisation but….it didn’t come. Professor Constantine just carried on like he was a normal student.

“Right, yes Harry, we are gonna learn some spells that are not on the curriculum including wandless defensive barriers, fire magic and protection from modern and ancient curses.”

Hermione almost looked in tears that her neat little notes on the Year 5 syllabus would be ignored.

“Sounds great,” Harry remarked.

“Won’t you get in trouble, John?” Ron asked. “With Umbridge?”

“If she gives me gyp I’ll just summon a demon to turn her tea into toilet water or summat,” John shrugged. “Never listened to the Ministry before and not about to now. You kids need to learn because summat dark is coming and you need to be prepared. If that means I get sacked for the effort then at least I will teach you sprogs summat useful before I get ousted.”

Harry’s spirits rose exponentially. An ally in the fight against the Ministry, someone to teach  _actual_  useful defensive magic and there was just something instantly likeable about John Constantine.

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	2. The New Syllabus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge disrupts the school year with another announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to turn this into a full series!
> 
> This fic will switch between Harry’s perspective and your perspective as the new teacher. Again, I tend to dislike using ‘Y/N’ so you have a surname and the first name is always your own.
> 
> Happy reading! 
> 
> \- TLP xx

The general murmuring of most of the students was that Professor Constantine, although odd, was actually one of the more interesting Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers they’d ever had.

The first lesson consisted of being able to wandlessly conjure fire. As Constantine had explained, a wand was only a conduit for magical ability, something to channel it through. For lesser spells, it was perfectly okay to use just your hands.

Of course, Neville had set fire to his own robes on the first try but at least he’d managed to produce flames. A lot of the other students had struggled. Hermione, on the other hand, had made such a perfect flaming ball in her hands that she’d scored fifty points for Gryffindor. Harry had managed something like a weak puff of fire but it hadn’t lasted long.

“I bet he’s seen all sorts of dark stuff,” Ron chatted merrily on his way to breakfast the next morning. “I meaaaan, bloke like that, running amongst muggles and demons?”

“What do muggles have to do with dark magic?” Hermione frowned.

“Dad says they’ve got planks of wood which talk to ghosts and they summon spirits in mirrors,” Ron said proudly.

“They don’t actually work, you know,” Harry snorted. “That’s just games for children.”

“Oh….Dad swore he got a real weedge board once that had managed to contact Agnes the Aggrieved.”

“It’s Ouija,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “And of course he found a real one. Someone probably tampered with it for a joke to scare muggles.”

“Yeah that does make sense,” Ron rubbed his chin as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. “Still really cool though.”

Out of instinct, Harry looked up at the staff table, seeing Umbridge’s smug features smiling sweetly back at him before he looked to Dumbledore who was politely chatting to a pretty witch he’d never seen before.

“Who’s that?” he nodded.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione narrowed her eyes to get a better look.

“I do,” Ron smiled around his mouthful of toast. “She works at the Ministry.”

“Doing what?” Harry was still watching the exchange and noting she smiled more genuinely than Umbridge did.

“Department of Muggle Relations,” Ron swallowed loudly. “She co-ordinates the Obliviator squad and keeps in touch with those muggles allowed to remember. Think she talks to the Prime Minister sometimes.”

“So what’s she doing here?”

“No idea. Maybe they need Dumbledore for something.”

“Or maybe Umbridge is up to no good,” Hermione said suspiciously.

After a few more moments of students milling into the Great Hall, Dumbledore stood up, tapping his goblet of orange juice gently but the sound was loud enough to stop all conversation.

“May I have your attention?” he began. “I do regret to give you more upheaval so soon but there’s been another change of staffing this year.”

“Oh no!” Hermione bit her lip. “I wonder which teacher got sacked.”

“Please say it’s Trelawny,” Ron crossed his fingers.

“The Muggle Studies professor, Charity Burbage, has been replaced with a Ministry issue teacher.”

“Well that’s alright then,” Ron shrugged. “That only affects you, Hermione.”

But Dumbledore hadn’t finished speaking, “And it is the wish of the Ministry that Muggle Studies is now a compulsory lesson. I realise this will cause a great deal of disruption to your timetables but-”

“Ahem!” Umbridge did that fake cough.

Harry could see McGonagall’s jaw grit but Dumbledore merely fell silent and gestured for her to take over. He didn’t know how the headmaster could put up with her constant interruptions. Then again, the Great Hall had just erupted into hushed whispers and outraged tones.

“Thank you, headmaster,” Umbridge stood up, barely becoming any taller as she did so. “The Ministry feels students need a proper education about muggles and their place in this world. So this is now crucial to your educational standards. This-”

“Thank you, Dolores,” Dumbledore manages to gain back control without ever raising his voice and Umbridge falls silent, throwing herself back into the seat, her chin dropped so low it gave her several jowls as she sulked. “Yes, she is quite correct so please let me introduce the new Muggle Studies teacher, Miss Kendall.”

“Kendall?” Harry heard Malfoy across the hall. “Doesn’t exactly scream pureblood, does it? I suspect she’s here to prove her worthiness to the Ministry.”

“Oh he’s so horrible,” Hermione scowled across at the Slytherins. “She doesn’t really look like one of  _those_  Ministry types.”

“Dad said she was always really helpful when their paths crossed,” Ron looked back at them all. “Never heard him say anything bad about her.”

“Do you think Umbridge made a mistake and thinks Professor Kendall is on her side maybe?” Harry mused aloud.

“Possible,” Hermione nodded emphatically. “Or maybe they’re threatening her family so she has to teach here. I can’t really say what her purpose is yet until we’ve had our first lesson.”

“If Umbridge has approved it, it can’t be anything good,” Harry muttered.

He looked up again at the witch who waved politely and then sat down. She was wearing a tweed waistcoast, a long patchwork shawl and a trailing skirt that gave the impression of attending a country club. Ron was right though, she didn’t have the same air of arrogance as Umbridge did.

Guess they’d have to wait to find out though.

 

**

 

Their first Muggle Studies lesson was straight after Charms and, laden with the new emergency textbooks they’d been provided with, they sloped off to the classroom.

Professor Kendall was waiting with a warm smile and directed them to their seats. Umbridge was in the back of the classroom, her clipboard perched on her knee as she surveyed the room.

“Good morning everyone,” Kendall started. “I’m your new Muggle Studies Professor. A little bit about myself.”

She turned and waved at the blackboard so writing appeared which she read out.

“I was the head of the Department for Muggle relations, I was top liaison with the Muggle Prime Minister and my favourite Bertie Botts flavour is Cherry Bakewell.”

There was a titter of laughter that was almost like relief. Some students had been expecting the worst it seemed but she was already off to an easy start with everyone.

“Our syllabus is going to be as follows, just to make it simpler. We’re starting with Muggle culture, then to Muggle conflict then to Muggle technology. The Ministry wishes you to know the dangers of revealing yourselves and the dangers Muggles pose to us.”

“To us?!” Hermione whispered next to Harry. “They’re demonising them! Making it us vs them.”

When Harry looked back to Umbridge, she seemed immensely pleased with herself. He knew she hated non-magical folk.

The lesson continued with an introduction to the limitations of Muggles and it seemed like, although Professor Kendall was a nice person, she’d been forced to teach something that was Ministry approved.

“Well I think you’re doing wonderfully,” Umbridge piped up halfway through, standing to her swollen feet. “I’ll leave it there. I have another classroom to inspect.”

“Of course,” Professor Kendall nodded and watched her like a hawk until she left the room, even peering out of the door to see her leave the corridor.

“Uh, Professor?” Cho asked. “Are you alright?”

“Now that  _she’s_  gone,” Professor Kendall sighed. “Let’s be honest. This is not what I wanted to teach. Muggles aren’t any more dangerous than we are. All that’s different is we have magic whereas they have technology and weapons. Fundamentally, we’re all just people. Unfortunately, I’ve been given a syllabus that I have to work from. Depending on you though, you can either have the lessons  _I_ want to teach or the lessons  _she_  wants me to teach.”

“Why don’t you like Professor Umbridge?” Seamus asked.

“You’ll find out,” Kendall looked at the door again. “Choice is yours anyway.”

“Well I want to learn the  _actual_  truth,” Harry said loudly. “My mother was muggleborn. Doesn’t make her evil.”

“No it doesn’t. No muggleborns are lesser. Blood status is a load of tosh,” Kendall stands up straighter. “If I teach you what I’ve learned in my years in Muggle relations, you’ll still have to read the textbook to pass the exam but there’s nothing to say I can’t make it very easy for you. I understand it’s a lot of work so that’s why I’m asking what you want to do. Raise your hands if you want my syllabus.”

To Harry’s surprise, all hands went up in the air.

He guessed in the short time Umbridge had been observing classes, she’d made the wrong impression.

“Well excellent,” Kendall smiled. “So let’s learn about Muggle media, shall we? Call it a ‘doss’ lesson.”

Harry would’ve thought Hermione would balk at the idea of watching television but strangely she seemed quite content.

A lot of the teachers this year were surprising him.

 

**

 

You packed away your books, watching the fifth years exit and wondering if any of them would rat you out to Umbridge. You’d only chosen to divulge what you had to every class that didn’t include Slytherins. You remember from your own student days here how important blood status was to them.

A knock at the door makes you jump a little.

“Sorry lass,” Professor Constantine looks sheepish. “Just wanted to pick your brains, like.”

“You can try,” you laugh. “I doubt there is much left before I have lunch.”

“Cute,” he smirks. “Listen, I had young Mister Potter come talk to me in my lesson about your thoughts on Muggles and Umbridge.”

“Oh,” your face falls.

“No no no, don’t worry luv. I’m of the same opinion. Lived around muggles for years,” he sparks up a cigarette from behind his ear. “Just wanted to say it were very brave of you. I’m also not following the agreed syllabus.”

“Really?”

“No way in hell I’m teaching such ruddy bollocks like defensive theory without even any practice. That’s not going to help the sprogs one bit against dark magic.”

“You know she’ll have us fired if she finds out,” you sit on the desk.

“Prolly,” he shrugs, joining you. “But I think it’s worth it.”

“Me too. I’ve got enough saved that I’ll be okay if I get sacked.”

“Ooo lucky you,” he laughs. “Rich bird. I know where I’m coming begging then after she finds out.”

“You really have spent a lot of time around muggles, haven’t you? You’ve got the slang down.”

“Wellllll,” he takes another puff. “Someone’s gotta watch out for them, right? Vampires, ghouls, werewolves, demons. Not like they’re equipped to fight them. I help where I can. Not always great at it but I help.”

“Yeah, I remember getting told about Newcastle,” you raise an eyebrow. “You made quite a lot of paperwork.”

“Ah,” he blushes a lot. “You’ve heard of me before then?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling. “Cleaned up that mess when you fought a vampire on the Underground. That took a lot of Obliviators.”

“Oh yeah,” he seems to remember something. “I think I saw you there. Came back to try and burn out their cameras but you’d beaten me to it. Ah well, seems you’ve got a bad impression of me then. Shall we start over?”

He holds his hand out and you shake it.

“Me name’s John Constantine, muggleborn. Nice to meet you, Kendall.”

“Nice to meet you too, John. I’m halfblood.”

“That explains the bog standard surname then,” he chuckles. “Tell you what, sit next to me at dinner. I’ll try and explain meself about what you’ve probably had to tidy up.”

“Sure,” you nod.

“Nice to have an ally here,” John nudges you. “Even better that she’s very nice to look at.”

“Sorry?” you feel yourself turning red.

John just winks at you before leaving the room.

It made you feel a little better that you weren’t the only one openly defying Umbridge. After all the horrible comments she’d had over the years about your department, there was no way you wanted to help her do anything.

Even if it cost you everything, you weren’t going to bow to the power of the Ministry any more.


	3. Corporal Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has his first detention with Umbridge and you and John have concerns over his safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Child safeguarding
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> \- TLP xx

“Professor?” Harry comes up to you after class has finished. “I wondered if I could have a word?”

“Certainly,” you smile, waiting for the remaining students to mill out. “Let’s go into my office.”

You lead him into the very muggle looking office with its static art and lack of whirring gadgets before asking him to sit down.

“I’ve been speaking with Professor Constantine,” Harry starts.

“Have you now?”

“He tells me you don’t believe the Ministry about what happened at the Triwizard tournament. I just wondered if that were true.”

He looked so hopeful that it really struck you how isolated Harry had become this year. You’d seen how some of the other students had reacted to him.

“Between you and I, it’s true,” you lean forward conspiratorially. “If my time around the muggle Prime Minister and his cabinet has taught me anything, it’s that when someone starts such a severe smear campaign, usually the slandered person is telling the truth and they want to bury it. There’s been talk of Voldemort coming back for years now and I would not be surprised if he succeeded. Muggle attacks from magical folk started rising again just before I came here.”

“You said Voldemort,” Harry blinks.

“Oh I’m not scared of a name, Harry,” you shake your head. “No more than I’m scared of saying ‘Umbridge’.”

“I have a detention with her this evening.”

“I know it’s difficult but try to rise above her. She’s just waiting for any excuse to punish anyone who’s ideas of current affairs don’t meet the Ministry’s. I don’t want to see you get yourself expelled.”

“Yes Professor. Thank you.”

“Come talk to me any time, provided I’m not teaching,” you smile warmly.

Harry gets up, goes to the door but hesitates with his hand on the handle.

“Why aren’t you afraid of her? Umbridge I mean?” he turns around.

“I was the head of a Department, I outranked her,” you shrug simply. “To me she’s always been Fudge’s pet cat, trailing after him everywhere. Frankly it’s embarrassing to watch. Mind how you go, Harry. You’ve got another lesson to get to.”

“Goodbye Professor.”

 

**

 

After his hellish detention with Umbridge, Harry understood what you had meant about not pushing Umbridge to her limits.

The next day in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Constantine was teaching them about wandless shield charms. He got Hermione to cast a jinx at him to which he made a few quick hand gestures and a glimmering barrier erected itself between them, bouncing the spell back and Hermione had to dodge out of the way.

“Sorry Granger!” Constantine made an 'oops’ face. “They are right strong if you can do them well. Now, why use your hands when you can just flick a wand, right? Takes more time, more effort. Anyone tell me why?”

Surprisingly Neville puts his hand up, after Hermione’s had shot into the air first of course.

“Yes, Longbottom.”

“If you’re disarmed and you can’t get to your wand, it’s the only way to defend yourself,” Neville says nervously as though he’s not sure he’s got it right.

“Brilliant. That’s exactly right, lad,” Constantine smiles. “Ten points for Gryffindor.”

Neville sat up a little straighter at that and Harry saw his confidence grow.

“Now watch these hand gestures and I want you to replicate them.”

As the lesson progressed, they split up into pairs, practicing the shield charm. Ron kept producing a very tiny shield that only protected his head which wasn’t much use when Harry was aiming at his torso.

“What’s that?” Constantine says as he walks behind Harry.

“Sorry Profes-, I mean John?”

“Your hand, lad. Your hand.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Give it 'ere,” Constantine reaches forward and takes it, reading the scratches emblazoned there.

_I must not tell lies._

“I’m assuming you didn’t do this to yourself,” Constantine says quietly.

“No, sir.”

“Who was it?”

“Umbridge,” Harry lowers his voice even more.

“Stay behind after class. I want to speak to you.”

Then he was off to help Seamus whose face was currently swelling to the size of a balloon.

“What was that about?” Ron asks.

“He saw what Umbridge did. Wants me to stay behind,” Harry explains.

“Think he’s gonna tell Dumbledore?”

“I hope so.”

“I meaaaan. Can’t be an ethical punishment, can it? I’m sure there’s rules regarding stuff like that. Maybe John wants to help you.”

“About time somebody did,” Harry notes bitterly, remembering some of the other teacher’s reactions that had been less than helpful.

The lesson ended and Harry hung back.

“Cuppa?” John waved him up to the office.

“No thanks,” Harry shook his head, the image of Umbridge’s pink tea set burned into his brain.

When he entered Constantine’s office, he blinked for a moment, wondering what the hell he was seeing.

There was rows of books and scrolls on one side, strange artifacts in cases behind the desk and to the right…

“What is that?!” he points at the creature standing miserably in a circle of runes.

“Oh that?” Constantine glances over. “That’s Morkath. He’s a minor demon. He keeps me updated on the goings on of Hell n’ that. Forgot to let him go this morning. Sorry!”

He mutters something and the demon blows a rather loud raspberry before disappearing.

“So Hell is real?” Harry tries to wrap his head around it.

“Think of it as another plain of existence,” Constantine sits down with his feet on his desk, scattering a few suspect ingredients onto the floor where they splat horribly. “I know it’s messy in here but teaching doesn’t give me a right lotta time to clean up.”

“Oh it’s fine.”

“So, Umbridge did that to you?”

“She had some sort of quill that scratched words into my hand as I wrote.”

“Aye, I know the quill,” Constantine says grimly. “And it’s illegal. It’s only applicable for use in Azkaban. Oh don’t get me wrong, once upon a time they did use it on students but after there had to be some hand amputations, it were shut down as a punishment method. I’d like to tell the headmaster about it if you’ll let me.”

“What can he do?” Harry shrugs. “Fudge won’t pull Umbridge for doing this. She’d probably get a medal for trying to discipline me.”

“True,” Constantine absentmindedly lights a cigarette before popping it in his mouth. “I’ll have to do summat, maybe confront her meself.”

“You’d do that?!”

“Lad, I don’t advocate harming sprogs,” he frowns. “I don’t even advocate using that on adults so yeah, I’d do that.”

“Why? You could be fired.”

“Worth it,” Constantine shrugs. “I’m not exactly gonna let it continue. Sure you’re alright otherwise lad?”

“Yes, Professor Kendall said I could talk to her if things got bad.”

“Did she now?” Constantine puffs a ring of smoke out. “She’s good people is that Professor Kendall. Was I right about her?”

“She does believe me, yes,” Harry nods. “Said she thinks Umbridge is an embarrassment.”

Constantine coughs as he laughs, hacking uncomfortably, “Sorry, Harry. That just tickled me, that did.”

“Sir?” Harry ventures, seeing something like fondness on Constantine’s face.

“For Merlin’s sake, lad, it’s John.”

“Sorry, I keep forgetting,” Harry says quickly. “Do you like Professor Kendall? Only I’ve seen you smiling a lot at her over breakfast.”

“She’s pleasant to talk to and pleasant to look at,” Constantine says cryptically. “You’d best get to lunch now or Weasley will eat all the bread rolls. I don’t know where that boy puts it all when he looks like a string bean.”

Harry got the impression the conversation was closed but it amused him to think that the teachers could possibly interact in a different way other than professionally.

How many other teachers might be flirting with each other? The thought of tiny Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout making eyes at each other made him laugh all the way to the Great Hall.

 

 

**

 

“Oi? This seat taken?” John doesn’t wait for an answer before slotting himself in next to you at the staff table.

“It is now,” you quip, cutting into some toad in the hole.

“Summat I wanna discuss with you, lass. It’s regarding Potter,” John lowers his voice so the other teachers can’t hear.

“And the pink cat?”

“Aye.”

You’d both taken to talking in code because of the implications.

“Meet me tonight in my office.”

“Oo shall I bring flowers?” John grins.

“Wine couldn’t hurt.”

“You hung around with some right posh muggles, you did,” John snorts. “Best I got is Butterbeer.”

“That’ll do,” you shrug, trying to conceal your smile.

“Go on, smile for me,” John nudges you. “You look lovely when you smile.”

“I’m not here to be eye candy. I’m here to teach.”

“Tell that to the seventh year boys,” John nods out towards the Great Hall where some of the older male students suddenly looked down as you made eye contact. “Randy bunch that lot and you’re the youngest professor here.”

“Oh right so I’m only good for my wrinkle free skin?”

“Piss off,” John scowls playfully. “You know you’re a stunner.”

“Do you talk to all women this way?”

“Only the ones I like”

“You really are something, John.”

But a loud “Ahem!” stopped your flirtatious conversation dead.

Umbridge smiles sweetly at the row of teachers before saying in that sickly saccharin voice, “Tomorrow morning, I’d like a staff meeting. There’s been some…interesting developments I’ve been hearing about and I believe it’s time to assert the powers that were given to me by the Minister. Be bright and early. Lateness will not be tolerated. That is all!”

“Cow,” John mutters quietly before leaning in and whispering in your ear. “What’s the odds one of our students blabbed?”

“Very likely,” you say darkly. “I’ll meet you later.”

 

**

 

A knock on the door of your office made you look up and John was stood there with a crate of Butterbeer under his arm and a box of Honeydukes Ever Changing Chocolate.

“Ready for a heavy talk, lass?” he comes in, placing the items down and closing the door before chanting something that makes the wood ripple before settling into place. “Just an anti-eavesdrop charm I picked up.”

“How many spells do you know?” you say in amazement.

“A fair few,” he smirks, his ego stroked before he sits down in the chair opposite. “Helps when you travel the world. Got spells from everywhere.”

“So what did you want to speak about Potter for?”

“Right,” John’s face becomes instantly grim. “He were doing wandless shield charms when I spotted his hand. Umbridge has used a Blood Quill on 'im.”

“What?!” you let your chair fall back onto all legs and sit up straight. “Are you serious?!”

“Saw the scars, 'I must not tell lies’. What a vicious hag she is….”

“I knew he had a detention but I didn’t think she’d go that far,” you shake you head. “Normally I’d report that to Fudge but….”

“But he’d probably condone it,” John sighs. “Wanted to run it by you. Thinking a’ going to Dumbledore about it.”

“He’s still the Headmaster…for now but I hear talks from my old colleagues that Fudge is just waiting for an opportunity to oust him. I don’t think we can rely on Albus’ help here. If he makes a move, he’ll be sacked.”

“Bollocks,” John hisses. “Don’t sit right with me to see tortured kiddies.”

“Me neither. Hey, why not steal the quill? If she can’t find it, she can’t use it on any student.”

John snorts before it blossoms into laughter, “Well I  _like_  you, luv. Ministry bird that encourages me to commit crimes? Sure I can’t tempt you for some midnight fun?”

“Shut up,” you throw a bouncy ball at him which he catches deftly, grinning.

“Not a bad idea though. I can use me minor demon to get in there. Beings of Hell aren’t detectable though dark detectors and alarms.”

He passes you a Butterbeer and the box of chocolates, watching you dive on them.

“Healthy appetite. You just get better,” he chuckles, swigging his bottle back. “I’ll be honest, lass. I’m fuckin’ dreading tomorrow morning. Can’t stand being lectured by some pink clad old bag.”

“I’m just wondering if I’m going to be finding another job tomorrow,” you lean back in the chair again.

“Fancy going into business together if we get shafted? Lot of magical artefacts out there in muggle houses that Diagon Alley would go mental for.”

“Really? You and me?”

“Why not?” he shrugs. “We both know how to deal with muggles and I assume you’re an intelligent witch to become head of a department, could be lucrative.”

“Alright then,” you nod, holding out your Butterbeer to clink it against John’s. “I’m tired of regulations anyway. The money was good but not worth my soul.”

“Nah lass, nothing is worth that. Trust me. Lost mine enough times,” John shudders though he doesn’t elaborate. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a heist to pull off.”

“Good luck.”

“You can keep the chocolates, luv,” John gets up, touching the door where it shivers again. “I liked watching your eyes light up eating them.”

With a swish of his tie, he’s gone out the door and you’re shaking your head at his constant compliments.

The man was relentless but he had a kind heart under all the arrogance and flirtation. If you did get fired tomorrow, at least you’d have options now.

Guess you’d see in the morning.


End file.
